Jasper: We mend each other
by fangirl2048
Summary: Nightmares. The usual. But there's one thing Jason always notices when he jolts awake in the middle of the night. And that's that she's always there. Always. Rated T for minor implications, but nothing too bad. And a pretty heavy make out scene. But hey, that's Jasper for you. Filled with fluff for the fluff lovers out there!


**Hey again, guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but things have been a little off the page for a while. U know how it is. **

**Thank you SO MUCH everyone who bothered to review my previous five stories, you have no idea how much I appreciate it. **

**Thx to the following:**

**-Magical ninja**

**-JustInLoveWithFairyTail**

**-Swimmergirl16**

**-thedarkwhiteangel**

**-ebookboss121**

**-shadoweater22 AKA cassie**

**-crazydasiy-in-tha-house**

**-Guest**

**-PercabethJasper-n-more**

**-amyheroesofolympus**

**-guest**

**-JASPERFOREVER321**

**-AlxGrace**

**-Reena**

**-beautyqueenpipermclean**

**-PenguinsForever**

**-The Cynical Nerd**

**-Jiper love**

**-Doublekitkat**

**-Abnegation Raveclaw**

**-riptidedauntlessgryffindor**

**-TeddyBear98**

**-JustLucky05**

**-sgpcat17**

**-saveyourself13**

**-Bookserpent**

**-Rainbow Lava Ninjas**

**You guys seriously made my day! **

**Love you!**

**Read on if you're a serious fluff lover! :D**

**-oOo-**

The all too familiar sounds of running footsteps filled the air. Leaves crunched; the trees rustled and wavered. And then she burst out of the canopy and into the clearing where he stood, alone, unable to move. Unable to get to her.

Her clothes were ripped and torn, barely covering what needed to be covered, with freshly bleeding cuts and gashes running down her chocolate brown, long, bare legs. Her shorts were bloody, and the palm of her hands, usually so soft and smooth, was scraped and scarred.

Opening his mouth to desperately scream her name - it might do something to stifle the unbearable agony brewing in his chest, might do something to quell the terror filling her beautiful kaleidoscope eyes - but no sound escaped him. His throat had contracted in horror. His feet were glued to the floor, frozen on the spot. He felt helpless, knowing there was no way he could possibly save her. But he had to. He had promised nothing would ever touch her.

No threat was evident. Not yet. However, Jason knew better than to let the surroundings insure her safety. Something was wrong.

Her multi-coloured eyes, usually so sweet and gentle, met his just as the tip of an eleven inch crimson coated razor sharp claw protruded from her stomach.

A wave of horror swelled in the pit of his stomach, made it way up to his chest at terrifying speeds, and wrapped an ice cold fist around his frozen heart. He couldn't breathe.

He watched, rooted to the spot, as a dribble of blood made its torturous trek over her lips and down her chin. Her gaze held his right until her knees gave way and she collapsed, her chest heaving as she coughed up crimson liquid. The monster had vanished.

And still, the most he could do was scream her name and struggle to move as she lay dying right in front of him, no more than a few metres away. Tears cascaded down his cheeks.

Then everything changed. The colours blurred together to form a new scenario.

Pinning her arms over her head, at the top if the bed, he furiously kissed her. He both heard and felt her moan into his open mouth as their lips moulded together; as their tongues fought for dominance.

As powerful as they were, they both needed to breathe, so finally he pulled away. He immediately attacked the side of her neck as she lay gasping above him, and pulled her hair away for better access.

Eagerly, he feasted on her skin, certain -_certain- _he would never get tired of it. Of the taste. Of the smoothness and silkiness of it against his lips and tongue.

Certain he would never get tired of loving her. Of falling in love with her over and over again.

He began to move lower, his mouth never once losing contact. He kept one hand wrapped around her wrists, and bought the other down to trace patterns on her abdomen. And just as he mouthed along the especially sensitive part of her collarbone, he felt her shudder and heard her whimper.

But it wasn't the type of whimper he desired to here. It was a whimper he had heard way too often.

He looked up as dread filled him, and gasped as the horrific sight of the leaking gash running down the side of her neck to her collarbone. Blood trickled down her neck to her shoulders. Terrified and too blinded with panic to think clearly, he pulled his hand of off her wrists and brought them to her shoulders, frantically searching for a way to gauze the constant bleeding. That was when he noticed the angry red welts on her wrists. And on her stomach. The skin was fresh and raw. It was scalded and burned.

It hit him smack on the face. It was burned at the exact places he had wrapped his fingers around her skin. The exact places he had touched her. The gash alongside her neck was the outline of journey his mouth had taken.

With a layer of cold sweat coating his skin, he pulled his hands off of her shoulders, not wanting to see the marks they'd leave behind. Five bleeding welts were present on each of her bare shoulders, one belonging to each of the fingertips which had gripped her so tight.

He was hurting her.

He had done this to her. After everything they had been through together, after all the promises he had made, in the end, it was just so she could feel pain at his hand. He could feel his heart being crushed under the agonising weight of the realisation.

"Piper, _Piper_..."

Eyes squeezed shut tightly, her face overflowing with anguish, hair laced with her own blood, she lay gasping and writhing in pain below him. But there was nothing he could do.

For once, there really was nothing he could do to make it better.

When her eyes finally shot open, they were crowded with ushered tears. And when she whispered the one thing he had always dreaded hearing from her, he broke apart. "Jason..." She coughed. "Jason, you're hurting me."

He jolted awake with a cry like a wounded animal. The horrifying image was imprinted into the back of his eyelids. Dazed with agony, he sat up and clenched the bed sheets in his fist. His heart threatened to jump out of his throat. A sheer layer of sweat coated his skin, and the quilt was twisted around his legs. Dizzy and woozy, with his thoughts swimming and hard to catch, he heard the moan escape his lips before he could stop it.

And then she was there.

She was there, like she always was, to gently grab his shaking shoulders and ease him back down onto his back. She was there to tenderly brush his hair away from his feverish forehead with her gentle fingers. She was there to catch the warm tears he didn't know were threatening to fall. She was there to reassuringly press her soothing lips to his forehead, then his cheeks, then his lips.

Through it all, she didn't speak. Instead, like a practised ritual which had been performed a large number if times (which it had been), she crawled up on the bed, and looped a leg around his waist. He moved closer, and burrowed his head in her chest. She held him, settling her chin on his head as he shook and cried, letting his tears soak her shirt. Occasionally, she dropped a kiss onto his blonde hair.

It had taken a while for his oblivious mind to understand why she always eased him into this position whenever he needed her. This way, he was the closest he could get to her heart. The beating was loud and clear in his ears, and helped settle the panic fluttering in his stomach.

Stroking the hair at the back of his head, keeping him close, she stayed silent, but Jason knew it was an open invitation if he wanted to speak. Lifting his hand, his fingers crept under the hem of her shirt and onto the skin on her waist. However, the smoothness of her skin brought back the memories, the scarring images from his nightmare. And with that came a whole bucket of paranoia.

Eyes widening in alarm, the habituated feeling of dread caused him to choke up, and he pulled away from her. He rolled her over onto her back and frantically pulled her shirt up, searching for the bleeding marks he knew were there. The marks he could still visualize so clearly in his mind. But her skin was clean, except for the random faded scar here and there. Maybe his eyes were defying him. He reached up to slip the loose shirt off of first one shoulder, uncovering it, then the next. But both were smooth and beautiful, untouched.

"Jason..." she quietly murmured his name.

Refusing to allow the relief to overwhelm him yet, he rolled down her pyjamas to reveal her long legs, pulling them off of her body. He scanned her skin for any sign of what had happened, any sign of her being in pain, but there was none present.

"Jason, look at me." She affectionately placed her fingertips on his cheekbone, willing him to meet her eyes.

He looked up, but missed the sadness dwelling inside the kaleidoscope chasm, and instead saw the pain and terror he saw in the nightmare.

Tugging him up so that their faces were level, she smiled gently. Jason was positioned above her with his elbows on either side of her, supporting his weight. "Tell me about it."

It wasn't a command; it never was. It was a choice.

He rolled off of her body and onto his side. She turned too, so that she was directly facing him. Their noses almost touched. Their legs twisted together, hers still cool and bare. He took one of her soft hands in his, and kept it clenched between them. He sighed and stared into her eyes. Using her free hand, she stroked his cheekbone.

Slowly, taking desperate breaks in the middle, he began to relate everything. Everything in the dream. Every detail. He told her how he felt so helpless when she was stabbed. How he couldn't move when she died in front of him. He told her how his touch burned her. How his mouth carved a deep gash onto her throat. How his fingertips lit her skin on fire.

He told her how he hurt her.

"And Piper, no matter what I did, no matter how much I tried to fix it, it just got worse. I kept on hurting you, and I didn't know how to stop!" He paused for breath. "Piper, you don't know what it was like, knowing I was the one causing you pain - after everything we've been through, I was the one causing you pain - and I couldn't s_top_. No matter how much I tried-" He stopped and choked up. "Piper, I'm sorry. I'm s - so _sorry_..."

Pulling his forehead to hers, Piper watched him as the tears streamed down his face, and he heaved dry, heavy sobs. She wanted to cry too; it hurt her to see him like this, so weak, so fragile. But she knew she had to stay strong. Stay strong for him.

When he quieted and calmed down, she leant up to whisper directly into his ear. _"Vous ne auriez jamaiz me faire du mal_," she whispered. "_Je sais que. Se il ya quelque chose que je en suis certain, que son."_

Jason, despite the blues, felt good enough to chuckle drily. "I love it when you talk French to me," he croaked, his throat hoarse from tears. "But I have to know what that means."

"Why? Afraid I'm saying something you won't like?" She grinned.

Jason smiled back, challenging. "What if you are?"

"Go use Google translate if you're so eager to know."

"No, it's better coming from you."

"Oh really? _Et pourquoi est-ce_?"

She had taught Jason enough for him to guess what that meant. "Because I love you," he replied.

Piper sighed, faking exasperation. "That's not an answer, sparky."

"It is now," Jason laughed, his ice blue eyes sparkling.

"Okay, so just because you say it is an answer, it becomes an answer?"

"Yes."

"Are you freaking serious?"

"Yes."

"Fine," she sighed. "But I'm not telling you because I'm giving up. You know I could argue with you all night long."

"Oh, trust me, I know."

She smirked. "Good." And then, without warning, she pushed Jason over onto his back and crawled on top of him. He stared up at her adoringly, and she leant closer to press her lips to his. "I said..." She kissed him again, deeply. "You could never hurt me. I know that." She gazed directly into his eyes, kaleidoscope to light blue; multi-coloured to the sky. "If there's anything I'm certain of, it's that."

Jason gaped up at her, gawking at her with devotion and astonishment so deep as if she was the lighthouse in the middle of an ocean.

"What?" She asked, puzzled at his expression.

Without responding, Jason leant up to fervently crush his lips to hers.

~oOo~

When they lay tangled together under the sheets, limbs twisted lovingly, trying to minimise the gaps and maximise the contact, he finally spoke again.

"Piper?"

"Hmm?" She murmured back, half asleep.

"Can you sing to me?"

Sighing contentedly, she sweetly kissed his forehead. "Sure, sweetheart." She knew if there was anything that could calm him, it was her sweet, melodious voice.

And she began. She sang sweetly and slowly, her voice clear and mesmerising as Jason lay nestled against her. She savoured every word which rolled off her tongue. And she meant every single syllable.

_"~I remember tears streaming down you face when I said I'll never let you go._

_When all those shadows almost killed your light._

_I remember you said don't leave me here alone,_

_But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight. ~"_

She paused to look at him, and saw that his eyes were closed. Reaching out to stroke his cheek, she continued in that pacifying lilting voice, which rang through the silent room, bounced off the walls, illuminating the darkness.

_"~Just close your eyes,_

_The sun is going down._

_You'll be alright,_

_No one can hurt you now._

_Come morning light,_

_You and I'll be safe and sound.~"_

His breathing was even, and he looked peaceful. But Piper knew this wasn't the end of the nightmares. Nothing she did would ever make them permanently leave. They would both be plagued by the horrors forever, and they could only hope it would get better. Baby steps.

But for now, being with each other, being there for each other was enough to get them through the nights.

_"Je te aime, _Jason_," _she whispered into his hair, and kissed him. He didn't have to say it back for her to know he felt the same.

She used to think that they could never be mended. That they could never recover. No one can escape the damage life provides.

But now, she also knew this: they can be mended. They mend each other.

**~oOo~**

**Phew! That was hard work!**

**I just recently finished rereading the divergent trilogy (if you haven't read it, I strongly recommend it. It's EPIC), so I just had to put something from that into this fanfic. So all the credit for the last lines go to Veronica Roth, of course.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed that! And if you haven't guessed, I DO NOT SPEAK FRENCH. Those lines were completely thanks to Google translate, so if something's wrong with them, please tell me! I don't want to offend anyone. **

**I wish there was a like button, just so I could tell if you guys appreciated my efforts. But there isn't. So (I hate to be repetitive, but) PLEASE REVIEW.**

**REVIEW.**

**REVIEW. Love you, and stay safe out there, fangirls!**


End file.
